


Misunderstandings

by I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning



Series: Symbiont Circle [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternative Relationship Structures, Masochism, Miscommunication, Multi, Non-Sexual Kink, Non-Sexual Submission, Other, Sadism, Some Angst This Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 19:07:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11996112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning/pseuds/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning
Summary: The Clone Wars rage, providing hell for Padmé, Satine, and Obi-Wan in their professions, and threatening grief and disaster every day. Something normal, something familiar, something safe— they see one another less frequently now, but it makes the moments they manage to secure all the more precious.But things aren't quite as comfortable as they once were.





	Misunderstandings

**Author's Note:**

> This one is going to be quite a bit less happy than those previous. My desire is for all of this to get straightened out so they can be happy again, but Anakin is being uncooperative.

 

Obi-Wan watched the body lying still on the couch tremble, skin nearly as flushed as the pale rose dress covering it.

He would never tire of this, watching the predator who held his heart play.

“Goodbye, Precious One,” Satine whispered, voice thick with tears.

Padmé bit her lip and shivered, burying her face in Satine's shoulder.

“Can you feel it?” Satine's fingers pressed lightly against Padmé's side. “The poison sinking deeper, spidering around your heart—” the fingers applied just a little more pressure, and Obi-Wan could see the pulse thundering in the Senator's throat, her eyes glazed.

“Please,” Padmé whispered, her gaze seeking his out. “I'm afraid.”

Obi-Wan moved closer, brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek. “I see you,” he whispered. “I see you.”

He held her gaze as she thrashed in Satine's arms, as he sensed Satine's mind shiver with appreciation. He held her gaze as Padmé fell almost aggressively limp and let her eyes still.

He gave her an almost reverent nod as the Force whispered around both women, speaking of the quiet elation spilling through their souls.

But Obi-Wan's own spirit didn't find an answering hum.

He hadn't been able to fully escape the war. It had followed him into their sanctuary.

He watched as Satine gently eased their Masochist out of their scene and back into reality. Watched as she ensured Padmé felt well, safe, treasured.

Padmé's gaze found Obi-Wan's, and he read knowledge there.

For a long moment there was awkward silence as Satine picked up on the discomfort and stilled.

“I still haven't told him,” Padmé spoke up at last.

Obi-Wan gave a nod. “I know.”

Padmé swung her legs over the side of the couch and sighed.

Satine stood beside her and gently smoothed her hair back again and again. Padmé leaned into her thigh, frowning.

“I want to tell him. I don't like it that there is something so important to me that he knows nothing about.”

“The longer you wait, the more difficult it will be for him to respond with grace,” Satine warned, fingers still monotonously soothing. “And it is always much worse if they find out on their own instead of being told by the one they love.”

Padmé stood, took a couple steps, then spun around again. “The thing is he spends so much time  _fighting_ to keep me alive. He's terrified of the thought of me dying. If I tell him that I enjoy pretending to die—” Padmé's gaze sought Obi-Wan's once more. “And how do I tell him  _you_ are the one who introduced me to Satine? And what if he sees this as me cheating on him, even though we've been together longer than he and I, and it's not sexual? Is there  _any_ way he would believe that it's not?”

“You know what I think.” Obi-Wan watched her with compassion, but without backing down.

“I should have told him before I married him.” Padmé dragged a hand through her hair. “I  _meant_ to, I did, and then— it just—  _kark._ ”

“If you're serious about spending the rest of your life with him, you need to tell him,” Satine pointed out.

Padmé looked miserable. “And I'm putting Obi-Wan's relationship with him in jeopardy, because if he  _does_ see this as cheating, he's going to think Obi-Wan betrayed him by not telling him, and the fact that I like having him  _watch—_ ”

“This isn't my secret to tell,” Obi-Wan said quietly, though the secret  _was_ dragging at his soul, weighing him down. “I am not married to him.”

“I don't know if what we have will survive this.” Padmé's face twisted. “I was afraid we'd never have a chance if I told him, and now I'm afraid he'll figure it out and the dream will be over. He's so afraid of not being enough for me, how can he  _possibly_ see this as anything other than me needing more because he is not enough?”

“These fears will haunt you. The only way to break their hold is truth.” It still hurt, that Padmé hadn't trusted either Satine or himself to  _tell_ them she was considering marrying Anakin. Or even to mention that she  _had_ married him until several months after the fact. The last few weeks, ever since she told them, had felt... strangely twisted. Every time Obi-Wan saw his brother, he wondered at how blithely the younger lied to his face...

And feared what would happen once Anakin realized what Obi-Wan had with his wife.  
Padmé looked miserable. “And what if I lose him?”

“To lie to him, for years upon years, would likely steal away the charm of what you two have anyway. Is it not better to take a chance than to let your love die a cold, slow death?” Obi-Wan asked.

Padmé shook her head. “You say that, but Anakin is going to respond with whatever he feels immediately. He'll come apart and once he's blown up, I'm not sure we'll be able to put things back together again.”

_That tendency might have been a sign he was not emotionally ready for marriage._ Obi-Wan didn't say it aloud. Padmé had made her choice, she undoubtedly had reasons, and it was not his place to explain to her all the reasons why he thought it had been too soon. Had she asked his advice or opinion beforehand, he would have gently shared his reasons, but the past was past.

Satine squeezed her shoulder. “You are strong,” she promised. “This is something holding you back. It's twisting your life in knots. For the first time in a very long time, you feel ashamed of this. Why should love make you feel ashamed for who you are?”

* * *

 

Padmé had gone, and Obi-Wan stood staring at the closed door.

Satine didn't need to feel the Force to be able to sense the dread shivering through him.

Padmé wasn't the only one with something infinite to lose.

“Why do I feel like I've betrayed him?”

Satine stood still, watching him. “Why  _do_ you?”

Obi-Wan's shoulders slumped. “When she came to me that night on the ship fleeing Naboo, I never thought— I never thought Anakin would end up being my best friend. Or that he would marry her. I sent her to you because I could not give her what she wanted, and she was so young, she could have ended up so hurt had she pursued it alone— she  _needed_ a guide— and I remembered you kept  _me_ safe when I didn't know  _anything._ You didn't take a step forward with me until we were both sure we knew enough and it was right for us both.”

“Do you feel guilt for sending her to me?”

Obi-Wan turned to face her. “That's what I'm saying. No. As much as I feel like I should, I think I did the right thing.”

“Do you feel guilt that it has, years later, reached a place where we find enjoyment in one another?”  
Obi-Wan shook his head. “No. I've seen the good it's done you both.”  
“Are you ashamed by the fact she likes having you watch?”  
He remained silent.

_Close to the mark._

“Or are you ashamed because you enjoy watching us?”

“I didn't used to be,” he whispered, eyes going foggy with unshed tears. “Everything was so much more simple before Anakin saw her again. The mission at the beginning of the war...” Obi-Wan dragged a hand down his face. “I knew he had a crush on her, but I had no idea it was that serious, and then I wasn't  _present_ and next thing I know I'm involved with my best friend's wife.”

“Who wasn't his wife.”  
“I still feel—” Obi-Wan shook his head and fell silent.

Satine sat on the edge of the couch, never once taking her gaze off him.

He stepped to her side, kneeling, resting his head against the side of her leg.

“He's going to hate me, and worse, I think he might have a right to.”

“Because you did not share a secret with him the woman whose secret it was didn't want shared?”

“But it is mine as well,” he argued, voice soft. “It's not as though I saw her enter a Bondage Club. I've  _helped_ you with more intricate scenes. Besides the fact that I introduced her—”

“Darling?”

He shook his head. “I took her to Houses here on Coruscant. I showed her the ones that were reputable, I warned her of the ones that weren't. I vouched for her. I am up to my shoulders in responsibility for this, Satine.”

“By that time she was an adult, and she and Anakin— at that time, no one could have foreseen it.”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps I should have shied away thirteen years ago when she asked me for help.”  
“Because a nine-year-old your master wanted to train had a crush on a young woman far older than he?”

Obi-Wan chuckled grimly against her knee. “Is that what this looks like from the outside?”  
“I see that Padmé has chosen to transition her life from being a solo mission to a team. I see that she was unwilling to risk losing that team by allowing the team to have full honesty.”

“But a marriage without trust is not what she dreamed of.”

“No. It's not. I see that she's setting out to take her life back into her own hands again, to take a risk for something better. Something needed.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “I hope he forgives her.”  
“I hope he does not feel there is anything to forgive.”  
Obi-Wan smiled, leaning into the hand she gently stroked over his head. “Your soul is beautiful.”  
“As is yours. And you know I never lie to you, so you should trust me when I say it.”  
He drew her hand to his lips and placed a fervent kiss there instead of speaking in reply.

 

* * *

 

He had expected something disastrous.

He hadn't quite expected to be shoved into the wall and punched repeatedly, but once he got over the surprise of it, Obi-Wan slipped from Anakin's grip and stumbled back, lip and nose bleeding, head and gut throbbing in pain.

“Might I inquire what that was for?” Obi-Wan asked, not trying to be snarky, just needing to understand a bit more than the obvious  _Anakin is angry._

If he didn't know why, he couldn't hope to find a less violent resolution.  
And then there were fingers around the back of his neck, pressing the side of his face into the wall. “You know very well,” Anakin hissed. “How could you _encourage_ this? Why didn't you tell me she was suicidal?”  
“She's not, Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmured, not resisting, hoping his words could reach his friend in a way he knew a return of the violence would not. “She's safe.”  
“She likes _dying_ more than  _sex_ and you claim she's  _safe_ ?”

“Anakin, the idea that sex is the only— or even the best— way to reach a state of pure connection and contentment is flawed. There are many forms of human intimacy—”

“My wife is having an affair with you and your girlfriend,” Anakin hissed. “How could you  _do_ that to me?”  
And then the fingers were gone and Obi-Wan turned to find Anakin's shoulders hunched, his body curling in on itself, a terrible loneliness in his eyes. “I trusted you,” he whispered. “Force, I  _trusted_ you, and you know how hard it is for me to—” Tears flooded his eyes, and then he was walking away at a fast clip.

Obi-Wan's heart broke.

He sped after him, begging the Force for  _words—_

“Please.”

Anakin paused at the doorway to his room.

“It's not sexual, Anakin.”

“Like hell it's not.”

“What she feels for Satine or myself is not romantic, Anakin, she has broken no oath to you. Her heart is yours.”  
“Then why does she feel life with me is so bad she wants to _die_ to escape it?”  
Obi-Wan wanted to reach out and place a hand on his shoulder but feared that would not convey what he was wanting to offer. 

“She doesn't desire death, Anakin. She finds certain aspects of an artistic rendition of it beautiful. Please. Speak to her. Ask her the questions you have. Listen to her answers. Share your concerns—”

“You think  _talking_ is going to  _fix this_ , Obi-Wan?” Anakin demanded, whirling around.

“I know that every relationship faces struggles. The only way to heal wounds formed by miscommunication is to communicate.”

“Says the man who wants to have a chain around his throat and be told he didn't fail Qui-Gon.”  
Something within Obi-Wan died.

 

* * *

 

Anakin waited for a denial, or shame, or an excuse as to why it wasn't  _bad—_

But Obi-Wan simply watched him, face now deathly pale.

“Only two people besides myself know that,” he finally said, voice terribly quiet. “Satine, and the man who does this to me. I know she did not tell you, so what did you do to Marev?”

Anakin felt a shiver run down his back.

That...

That wasn't one of the expected responses. That was—

“I didn't hurt him,” he muttered, feeling defensive.

“I highly doubt that.” Obi-Wan's face looked pinched, as if he'd been injured and was trying to function through the wound. “If you mind-tricked him, the moment he realizes he broke my confidence is— he takes it very seriously, Anakin. He's going to doubt his own mind, he's going to feel helpless— Anakin, you took  _over his mind_ for a moment. Not to save your life, but out of  _spite._ You took away his freedom to choose, and made him give you something he held sacred for someone else.”

Anakin snarled at him, suddenly angry. “You make it sound like rape,” he hissed. “But I'm not the one screwing  _your girlfriend_ ! And I'm not a sick voyeur!”

“Alright.” Obi-Wan took a step back. “Please speak to your wife. And please leave Marev alone in the future. He's a good man, a  _kind_ man, and he deserves better than to be menaced for something you hold against me.”  
“Yeah? I'm sure Satine would be  _really_ interested to know what you get up to when her back is turned.”

 

* * *

 

For a moment Obi-Wan drew in a breath to argue, to point out she  _did know—_

But instead he turned away, forcing his footsteps to carry him down the hall.

Anakin was too angry to hear him at this moment.

_Anything I say will make it worse._

_A person never changes their mind in the middle of a yelling match. They're too busy screaming to consider the other's statements._

And besides.

He had a comm call he needed to make.

And as Marev, beautiful, strong Marev wept, Obi-Wan wished he wasn't half a universe away so he could hold him the way Marev had him through so much heartache.

 

* * *

 

“He was drunk and he hurt him, Satine.”  
Satine watched the small hologram of Obi-Wan seem to implode on himself and wished she wasn't currently on Mandalore.

“He was  _drunk_ and he  _hurt_ him, if he hadn't— he hunted down Marev's house, and when the door opened, said he was a friend of mine and asked if he could come in. He  _trashed_ Marev's living room,  _threatened_ him, and when Marev refused to speak about us, Anakin forced himself into Marev's mind.”

Anger surged through Satine, bright and quick. She could understand Anakin feeling confused and threatened by the revealed aspect of his wife's life, but he had no business trying to discover what Obi-Wan did with  _other_ play partners. That had  _nothing_ to do with Padmé.

_And certainly not what he asked for ten years ago when the grief was still new and he hadn't worked through it yet. Dear Force._

“If Marev hadn't let him into his mind, he'd be a vegetable now. He had to  _make that choice,_ Satine. And because of it, he feels as if he betrayed me and himself. I tried to tell him he did the right thing, but—” Obi-Wan raised tear-blurred eyes to her face, the pain clear in his face. “He says he wants space. I don't blame him.”

“I'm so sorry, Obi-Wan.”  
He grimaced, tears slipping freely down his cheeks. “I don't dare try to meet with Padmé, I'm afraid of what he'll do if he finds out— and I have no doubt he's watching us both closely. I don't think he would hurt her, but I'm afraid that what either of us has with him is very close to being irrevocably lost. I've asked him to speak with her, but if it appears I'm going behind his back— I'm afraid I'll lose everything.”  
Satine's heart ached for all three of them as she listened to Obi-Wan's fears and loss.

 

* * *

 

A week later Obi-Wan stepped into the Council chamber to find Anakin already present.

“Knight Skywalker, will you repeat what you told us, please?” Windu asked, sounding kriffed.

Anakin didn't look at Obi-Wan. He tucked his chin and said, “I am here to turn in Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi for attachments.”

Obi-Wan stared at him in disbelief.

“Ignoring for a second that's not how it works,” Windu growled, “I'd like to know what in hell you're talking about.”  
“Duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore,” Anakin announced. “And a man named Marev Kesseyd.”

For a long moment the Council stared at Anakin expectantly.

“And?” Windu finally prompted.

Anakin stared back, shocked. “What do you mean, _and_?”  
“The Council is aware of Master Kenobi's friendships with both individuals, and is _also_ aware that when innocents were on the line he still did his job and did it well. He is not willing to sacrifice others in order to keep them, nor is he a jealous individual, therefore there is no problem here. So are you done attempting to betray your former master?”  
Anakin's face went white. “ _Betray_? I do _one thing_ according to your _stupid Code,_ and you say I'm _betraying_ someone!”  
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmured.

Anakin didn't look at him. “You're all hypocrites.”  
“So far all that you've done is insinuate we should be upset about something that isn't actually against the Code, and then spew vitriol at us for not doing what you seem to think is so unreasonable,” Windu returned, voice dry. “Perhaps you could remember you are an adult, take a deep breath, and try again. Perhaps with full sentences this time.”

Obi-Wan cringed. He loved Mace. He did. But the man was too protective of him, too busy seeing how deeply twined Anakin was in the shatterpoints of Obi-Wan's heart.

_He may destroy me someday, Mace. But trying to push him away from me won't save me._

_It's alright, Mace._

_I think it's already begun._

 

* * *

 

There was a strange resignation emanating from Obi-Wan. Pain, expectation of more to come, and such a deep sorrow.

“He thinks being a slave is somehow  _sexy_ !” Anakin spewed out, fury overwhelming any remaining self-control. “He lets people  _chain_ him and he's a pervert!”  
Windu did not look impressed. “What did he do to you that has you so desperate 

for him to be harmed?”

“He's a hypocrite,” Anakin muttered, knowing he couldn't answer that question without revealing Padmé.

Windu arched an eyebrow at him. “I see. Master Kenobi, Master Skywalker, how deep is this schism and do we need to ensure you're not within four parsecs of each other for the rest of the war?”

“Yes,” Anakin muttered, ignoring the way Obi-Wan's head suddenly bowed, the way blue eyes searched the floor as he accepted Anakin's anger and endured it without lashing out in return.

_Frip you._

He stormed out of the Council chamber to find Ahsoka waiting by the door.

He was not in the mood to talk—

Instead of approaching him, she accosted Obi-Wan.

Fury surged through Anakin's soul. “Stay away from him,” he snapped.

Obi-Wan recoiled as if struck.

Ahsoka's head came up, eyes wide. “What?”

“I said,  _stay away from him._ ”

“Master? Master?  _Hey—_ Master! Why? What is going on?”  
He didn't look around.

“Go with him, Ahsoka,” he heard Obi-Wan murmur. “I'm alright. Stay with him.”

Anakin spun around and lunged into his space, jabbing a metal finger into his chest. “ _You_ leave us alone. From here on out. You understand? Away from  _me,_ away from  _Padmé,_ away from  _my Padawan._ Last thing I want is for her to learn anything from  _you._ You always take  _everything_ away from me, the least you can do is  _leave me Ahsoka._ ”

Something broke in Obi-Wan's eyes.

Anakin didn't stick around to find out what.

 

* * *

 

When Obi-Wan let himself into Satine's apartment, he wasn't surprised to find Padmé already there, weeping in Satine's arms.

With their third actually on planet...

The risk of Anakin finding out wasn't great enough to last against the grief.

Satine looked up, saw immediately Obi-Wan was in pain.

“Come,” she directed them both, sitting on the couch and drawing Padmé to sit beside her. Padmé curled against her, as Satine held out a hand to Obi-Wan. He sank to the couch on the other side of her, shoulders slumped.

“I am grieved you must endure this,” Satine murmured to them both.

“He makes me feel so ashamed,” Padmé whispered. “Like I've betrayed him, like I've hurt him, like the way I'm made is something  _wrong_ and weak.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “The only mistake I can see you having made is not telling him who you are before he got in this deep.”  
“I thought he wouldn't want me.”  
“Did you share what you feel, or did he make assumptions and leave?” Satine asked.

Padmé sighed. “I was so afraid of it going poorly that I think I said it all wrong. And he demanded  _who_ before I was ready to explain that part, and he frightened me, and I said, because I was afraid of what he would do, and I thought it would ease his fear for me if he knew it was people who would never hurt me, people who would always respect me—”

“I do not blame you, Dear Heart,” Satine soothed. “I am not sorry you told him my name.”  
Padmé sat up, looking worried. “What if he decides to try to scare you off? He has to know you're on Coruscant again.”

“Darling, he may believe that because the two of you are married he now owns your body and has a say in what you do with it, but unless you have chosen to give him that say, that is not automatically the case. Did you give him that much authority?”

“...No.”  
“Then for him to assume it, for him to try, by his behavior, to shame you and punish you into a behavior pattern that suits him better, is out of line. I have no doubt his hurt is real, he is probably afraid you will leave him— or have already left him. His fear will convince him to act in unkind ways.”  
“Could Obi-Wan perhaps explain it?” Padmé asked, sounding hesitant.

He felt his heart sink. “I tried. But he sees me as the one who's— no. He can't hear me, Padmé. He feels too betrayed.”

“All is not lost,” Satine spoke quietly. “This storm can be weathered, and there is a possibility for healing.”

Padmé voiced the question consuming Obi-Wan's mind. “How?”  
  


* * *

 

“Ahsoka? It's Padmé.”

“ _Oh my Force_ ! Are you okay? Skyguy's a wreck.”  
“It's complicated, Ahsoka. I just want to be able to speak with him, but he's refusing to come home.”

“Yeah.” Ahsoka's voice hesitated. “Listen. He may have gotten a little drunk and said something I don't think he was supposed to say to me.”

Padmé felt her heart sink, but braced herself and asked, “What did he say, Ahsoka?”

The sixteen-year-old considered it.

“He said you cheated on him. That you and Master Obi-Wan are having an affair. And I'm not supposed to go anywhere near him now.”

Padmé winced. “It's not true, Ahsoka.”

“Yeah, I was having a hard time seeing it. I mean,  _Master Obi-Wan_ ?”

“It's— it's still a bit complicated. Have you heard of kink, Ahsoka?”

“Weird sex, right?”

“Not necessarily,” Padmé explained. “It can be foreplay or sex, or it might have nothing to do with either. It might be between romantic partners, or it might happen with people you are not romantically or sexually involved with.”

“Wait... oh. I think I'm going to be sick.”  
“Ahsoka!”

Ahsoka looked sheepish and ill all in one. “Sorry. Go on?”  
“Obi-Wan and I were friends who also shared—  _fully clothed—_ non-romantic moments. It's something we've had long before I saw Anakin as an adult. Anakin was nine years old when I first met Obi-Wan.”

“Holy  _Sith,_ are you serious? How old were you?”  
“Fourteen. I thought he was a cute kid, but I never considered him as romantic material.”

“Until... when?”  
“Right before the Battle of Geonosis. But I'd been spending time with Obi-Wan long before that.”  
“So... you were cheating on Master Obi-Wan with _Anakin_ .” Ahsoka's eyes widened. “You're right. That is complicated.”  
“ _No._ ” Padmé sighed. “Ahsoka, please. I know the Order provides an education about how there are many different kinds of relationships, and how one might not exclude all others?”

“Ah... Anakin doesn't talk like that. He seems to think that if you're in love, that's that, and there's not really room for anything else.”  
Padmé rested her forehead in her hand. “That's Anakin.”  
“So... you're romantically and— _ew—_ sexually into Anakin, but  _not_ romantically or sexually into Master Obi-Wan and Satine. I'm not really seeing the problem.”

“Because they're important in my life too,” Padmé elaborated.

Ahsoka frowned. “I would think that was healthy? I mean, I'm not in love, but if I was, I wouldn't want to just walk away from Anakin. And Anakin doesn't really have much room to complain, right, because he loves Master Obi-Wan with all his heart. That's never bothered you, right? He can love both of you?”

“In different ways, yes. I like to think my heart is large enough to include both my husband  _and_ my play partners.”

“You... don't...  _really_ call them that, do you?”  
Padmé chuckled. “Sorry, Ahsoka.”

“There is so much I wish I did not know right now. But I don't even— if it's not  _sex,_ then what  _is it—?_ ”

“Ahsoka?”

“Yeah?”

“You've been nearly throwing up, and now you ask for details.”  
“Guess I should make up my mind?”  
“Perhaps.”  
Ahsoka quirked a smile at her. “Yeah, okay. Doesn't Anakin trust you enough to know you still love him? That nothing has changed— I mean, it _hasn't,_ right? If this was going on before, then a couple weeks ago you felt the same about him...”

“He has a... very... Outer Rim view of relationships, Ahsoka.”  
“But if he loves you, doesn't he want you happy? And if you're happy, _and_ there's no danger of you leaving him... I don't get why he's upset.”  
“Because he  _doesn't_ know I love him. And he  _does_ think I'm leaving him. And he's jealous.”

Ahsoka frowned. “Okay. That's another Jedi trait it's inconvenient for him to  _not_ have managed to acquire.”

“Which?”  
“The difference between jealousy and envy. When you're jealous, you see what someone else has, and you want to have it yourself and them _not_ to have it. It's based in a desire to see someone else less happy than you. Envy is when you see what someone else has and you want it, but you're alright with them having it, as long as you have it too.”  
Padmé smiled. “The foundation for polyamory.”

“I guess. Makes sense. He... also said you want to hurt yourself. That you need medication or something.”  
Padmé tapped the side of her head with her finger where her hand still propped it up. “We're back to how much you really want to know.”

“I need to know you're safe.” Ahsoka's expression went sober and worried.

Padmé gave her an equally grave nod. “I am safe, Ahsoka. I am also a Masochist. The two things are not necessarily mutually exclusive.”

“But you do like hurting yourself?”

“There are some individuals who enjoy pain within a certain context. It is possible to experience it in a safe way that harms neither their bodies or minds. I am not one of those people, instead, I use imaginary pain. Pain we pretend exists.”

Ahsoka bit her lip. “It sounds weird.”

“It's not quite as common a practice as sex.”

“Again, ew. But okay.” Ahsoka fell silent for a moment, and then she looked just a little bewildered. “Master Obi-Wan is such a kind person. It's hard to think of him  _liking_ hurting someone else.”

“He isn't my Sadist, Ahsoka. But if Anakin thinks Obi-Wan is hurting me and receiving pleasure for doing so— can you see why he'd be upset?”

Ahsoka huffed a grim chuckle. “And if he doesn't let you explain...”

“Exactly. Which is why I called you. I  _have_ to speak with him.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Ahsoka promised, “I'll see what I can do.”

“If he thinks it's an ambush, it'll be worse than before,” Padmé warned.

Ahsoka looked back at her with a smile. “Listen. When is Satine going back to Mandalore?”

“Tonight. She only came to touch base because of this disaster, but she can't be spared.”

“And is it possible to arrange for yourself and Senator Chuchi to go to Mandalore by way of Taris?”

“That would put us close to the fighting,” Padmé pointed out.

“Yep. I think that I might be able to convince Master Yoda that the Jedi chosen to accompany you should be ones that work well with Chuchi, and Tarisians. Obviously it's me with Chuchi, and Anakin has a good history with Taris, so it's a perfect fit. A few days on a small ship— how about we take yours?— you'll be able to make a point of speaking with him. And I'll keep Chuchi distracted while you guys work it out.”

For the first time, a flicker of hope lit in Padmé's soul. “Do you think this might work?”

“I do.”  
Tears slipped down Padmé's cheeks as she tried to thank the Padawan, and couldn't quite lay her hands on the words.

“It's okay, Padmé,” Ahsoka murmured. “You, Anakin, Master Obi-Wan— you're all important to me. And I want all of you and Satine to be happy. Force knows Master Kenobi's been denied happiness for a very long time. If he's found a home with you and Anakin, I don't want him to lose it.”

_Neither do I, Ahsoka._

_Neither do I._

 

 


End file.
